


The Christmas Tree Surprise

by blueboxesandtrafficcones



Series: Queen of Hearts [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Cameo from Jo Grant, Childhood Memories, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Tree, F/M, First Christmas, Modern Royalty, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:48:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28081908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueboxesandtrafficcones/pseuds/blueboxesandtrafficcones
Summary: Ian surprises Rose with a Christmas tree for them to decorate that’s just for their eyes - but it’s the decorations he has ready that makes her melt.A Queen of Hearts 'verse fic.
Relationships: Twelfth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Series: Queen of Hearts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1444390
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25
Collections: 31 Days of Ficmas 2020





	The Christmas Tree Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> Day 12 of 2020′s 31 Days of Ficmas
> 
> Prompt: Tree

“Goodbye!” With a final wave to the schoolchildren gathered on the steps, Rose stepped into the town car, smiling and blowing kisses out the window as they pulled away from Arcadia Grammar School, waiting until they were out of sight to sink back into the leather. “I _loved_ that.”

“I’m glad, ma’am,” her private secretary, Jo, said warmly. “And they loved you, of course. I suspect I know what they’ll go home telling their parents about at supper tonight.”

Rose smiled at the idea. “I hope so- that they enjoyed it, I mean. I’m just glad I was able to read the book without any mistakes. That’s my definition of a successful engagement, at least!” It was only in the last few weeks she’d graduated to doing solo events, and though terribly stressful, she was proud of how they’d gone – no incidents yet, though a few near misses. Most importantly to her, though, she hadn’t walked out of any yet, nor burst into tears. _High standards you’ve got for yourself, Rose Tyler._ “So, what’s next?”

Jo consulted her iPad, scrolling for only a moment. “The King has blocked off the next two hours of your schedule. No description was given, only to go directly to your suite – he’ll meet you there.”

“That’s odd.” Rose frowned, biting her lip as she thought. “Gosh, I’m not in trouble for anything, am I?”

“I doubt it,” Jo dismissed out of hand. “It’s the first of December – if I know him, you’ll be drowning in tinsel the moment you walk through the door. Decorating the Palace may be your responsibility, but he’ll handle your suite. Just you wait and see. I’m sure it’s fine.”

Rose chewed on that the rest of the drive back, hoping the other woman was right – not that she really doubted her, as she hadn’t been steered wrong yet, but a not-so-small part of her heart was convinced any moment they’d decide she wasn’t learning quickly enough, or performing well enough as Queen, and send her home with only the things she’d arrived with.

The Palace was bustling as they pulled up, the grounds crew decorating for the holiday season and transforming the normally-magical (to Rose) Palace into a winter wonderland. Fresh garland was being hung over every doorway and window frame on every level, complete with red, gold, and silver ornaments nestled amongst the sprigs.

“It’s beautiful,” Rose breathed as they entered, making Jo laugh. The page stationed just inside the door took her coat, and she headed up the stairs towards their suite of rooms making mental notes on the needed decorations; work hadn’t started indoors quite yet, as she was still pouring over pictures of previous years to get an idea of how it should look.

At the top of the stairs Jo peeled off towards her own office, and Rose traversed the last few meters to her door alone. Smiling at the guard who let her through, she was nearly overpowered by the scent of fir. Coughing slightly, she followed her nose to the end of the hall where their bedroom door was cracked open; pushing inside, she found her husband watching with his arms crossed as two teenaged pages wrapped lights around a tree.

Not just a tree- a _gigantic_ tree. A good three or four meters high it stretched towards the ceiling, so straight she was certain supports were in use. It was terribly wide, though their bedroom was so large in and of itself that it felt perfectly at size. _Blimey_. Row after row of unlit lights wound from the top down, the sweaty pages finishing the last of it with relieved sighs.

“Right, let’s light her up, see how it looks,” Ian said.

One page went around the back towards the outlet while the other turned to face Ian; catching sight of Rose, his eyes widened, and he bowed to her. “Your Majesty.”

“Hi, Sam,” Rose said faintly, stepping up to Ian’s side. “Hey, you. What on Earth is this?”

“It’s our Christmas tree,” her husband grinned, kissing her hello. “Don’t worry, we’ll be decorating it together, but I’ve learned that there can be certain perks to this job, and getting someone else to do the bits I can’t stand is part of that. In this case, stringing lights on a tree.”

“Happy to do so, Sir,” Sam assured him as the lights flicked on, Josh stepping out from behind the tree and bowing to her as well. “What do you think?”

Arm in arm Rose and Ian stared at the tree; knowing he was probably examining it from a practical viewpoint, she just took in the beauty and the wonder – she’d never had a Christmas tree in her _bedroom_ before, and certainly not with half a dozen others expected to be sprinkled throughout the house. Not that the 170-room palace she now called home counted as a house. _Is this really my life?_

“Rose? What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” she said firmly. “Just as it is. Thank you, Sam, and Josh. Lovely job.”

Recognizing the dismissal for what it was both young men bowed, murmured, “Your Majesty”, and backed out of the room, shutting the door behind them and leaving Rose and Ian alone.

“Hello again,” he greeted her, turning to face her and wrapping his arms around her waist, drawing her close. “How’d it go at the school?”

She reached up to kiss him, just because she could, before leading him over to their sofa and curling up next to each other as she gushed. “Oh, it was wonderful! They were all so bright, and kind. I read the story, answered a few questions and asked some of my own, and they sang a Christmas carol – “We Wish You a Merry Christmas”, if you must know. It couldn’t have gone better.”

“I’m so glad to hear that.” His eyes crinkled, as he kissed her knuckles. “I was hoping it would. I know how important it is to you.”

Rose just smiled, glancing back over her shoulder towards the tree now dominating their living space. “Thanks. What’s the plan here, then?”

“When you’re ready, I thought we’d decorate it together. More of a homemade style, if you’re interested. Everything out there,” he gestured towards the doors, “will be prim and polished and befitting a royal Palace, but in here, I want it to be just a normal married couple celebrating their first Christmas together.”

“Normal, right,” she teased, elbowing him. “In our one hundred-plus square meter bedroom, with five-meter high ceilings and an army of staff. Not to mention real, actual, _literal_ crown jewels. Not just a euphemism!”

Ian rolled his eyes in a good-natured way. “Decorations are over there, if you want to start.”

“Mhmm, not quite yet. Tell me about the tree – where did you _find_ it?”

“Find it?” His tone was somewhat bewildered. “Didn’t anyone tell you- clearly not. No, I own some acreage in Germany, all of which is forest. Clearly we’ve had it zoned for cutting down Christmas trees, and it supplies the Palace and Arcadia’s Town Square with trees every year – sustainably, of course.”

Jaw dropping slightly, Rose wondered if it would ever cease to amaze her at how casually he could mention property and possessions – the land in France, where the family vineyard and winery stood, financing some of their royal lifestyle; a ski chalet in the Swiss Alps just over the border from Gallifrey; a “cottage” on Lake Como; and now this. “How international of you,” she managed, making him laugh.

“It’s a royalty thing,” Ian grinned. “Pretty much everything’s been in the family for centuries, at this point – especially land. Most of it’s dowries from various queens marrying in, back when Europe was littered with royal families. I think the most recent addition was the purchase of a flat in Paris in the Twenties. My great-grandmother was from Lyon, and met my great-grandfather by happenstance at the vineyard. As a wedding present he got her the flat, and they’d go up for weeks at a time.” He coughed. “It wasn’t the best investment in hindsight, but it’s still there and ours, though I don’t think anyone’s been since my parents honeymooned there. But we can visit at some point, if you like.”

“Not if it’s a problem, but yeah, I’d love that.” A glance at the tree refocused her. “Tell me more about the trees, though.”

“The parcel of land came into the family as part of a dowry, as I said, of a Württemberg princess, back when the area was a Duchy in the Holy Roman Empire. Over time, parts were sold off until just a dozen or so acres remained. The team that manages the site has been doing so for, oh, two hundred years, so they have it down to a science. Any excess trees that would be too big after another year of growth are sold – mostly to local governments or other high-ceilinged buildings. It’s not necessarily a moneymaker, but the sales bring in enough to keep everything operating, which is honestly all I care about.”

“It sounds wonderful,” Rose said truthfully. “Have you ever been up to see it?”

His brows furrowed in thought. “As a child, but not recently. I think Donna took the twins up two years ago to pick one out for Lungbarrow House. If you like, we can go up next year.”

“I’d like that.”

They fell silent then, admiring the lights strung on the tree. It was nearly hypnotizing, Ian’s steady heartbeat beneath her ear, his warm arms around her, the twinkling lights blinking in and out, all of it working together to lull her to sleep.

And when she slept, she dreamed of wandering through a forest, Ian’s hand in hers, a small child running ahead shrieking with joy.

* * *

It wasn’t until after dinner they had the opportunity to actually decorate. While Ian started an instrumental Christmas playlist, Rose opened the first storage container full of decorations – and froze.

“Surprise.” Her husband’s chuckle behind her made Rose spin, eyes wide.

“You- My- How?” Speechless, she gestured to the tub, full of her childhood ornaments.

Looking inordinately pleased with himself, he reached in and pulled out the top ornament- clearly school-made, it featured a four-year-old Rose and a toothy grin. “I called your mum a few weeks ago, and asked her if she had any ornaments you might want put on our tree. She shipped them out, and they arrived yesterday. Plus, we brought everything you had in your flat- it’s all combined in this container.” His smile faltered. “I hope that’s all right- that I didn’t overstep. I was very clear I was only asking for things she didn’t mind parting with.”

Overwhelmed, Rose threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” His arms went easily around her waist. “This is your home now, and I want it to feel that way. Over time we’ll build up our own supply of sentimental ornaments, but our individual childhood ones seemed a good start.”

“It is. I also want to set our own traditions, though. But you better have similar ones – I don’t want my baby pictures to be the only ones on there!”

Ian laughed. “They won’t be,” he reassured her. “I have plenty handmade, awkward picture ornaments as well, and they’re sitting in that box there,” he pointed to the one beneath her own. “Now, shall we start?” He handed over the one he’d originally picked up. “I confess to having rifled through them somewhat, and this was one of my favorites. I think it should be first on the tree- would you like the honors?”

“Together.”

Hand in hand they stepped up the tree, and by mutual, silent agreement, slid it onto a branch front and center.

“Perfect.”

And it was.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
